Letters

Long before Niall and I ever met, we talked.  And we emailed every single day, multiple times throughout the day.  Down to our goodnight messages before bed each evening.  First, he had suggested we meet and grab lunch somewhere.  I definitely did not feel comfortable with that (what if he was gross and I was stuck staring at him for a good solid hour or two?).  So that idea was nixed from my brain pretty quickly.  Next, he suggested we grab a cocktail, which seemed way more realistic.  “If we don’t like one another and we don’t feel a connection, then it’s just a quick ten minute drink, right?”

But I was scared.  And meeting a complete stranger was beyond my comfort zone.  It honestly freaked me out.  Let’s be honest- he could have been an axe murderer for all I knew.  I could be walking into a very dangerous situation.  We’ve all read enough stories of crimes happening to naive women, and I was not about to become one of them.  So, I always rebuffed his invitations, as I couldn’t negate the axe murderer thoughts coming from the inner recesses of my brain.

I finally had to tell him, “Look, I don’t want to meet you right now.  Can we just take things slow and get to know one another?  I don’t like to rush.  I need to take time in order to assess if you are an axe murderer or not.”

“Sure.  I’m on the same page.  I can understand your hesitations but I can assure you, I am not some axe murderer.  For the record, I like talking to you ;-)”

So…we talked every day.  He would reach out before taking off to meet investors,  We both started sharing stories about our kids.  Sometimes I would share photos of them.  And then, finally he did too.  He took his kids skiing and they pretty much cried the entire time through ski school…while he sat on the sidelines watching them.  He was messaging me during that entire saga (you gotta wonder just how disconnected two spouses can be when this is going on during their “family” vacation).  The roles were reversed in our household, only this time- it was my daughter crying because she kept falling during ice skating lessons.  He would send sweet messages of encouragement, parenting tips of how to get through whatever the kids were bombarding me with.  And I would do the same for him, as he was sitting in the waiting room of major tech or hedge fund company about to make his pitch.

All of our interactions seemed very, very normal.  You could safely say, that we had settled into a “friendship” over the course of that month.  But there was something I hadn’t told him yet.

My name.

Yep.  I still hadn’t even told him my real name.  That’s how cautious I was about him and this entire situation.  I asked him if it bothered him, and of course, he said yes.  But he quickly followed that up with, “In due time…”

Finally, one night- after exchanging many, many messages, we discovered we had distant mutual friends and overlaps in career sectors.  Our worlds were feeling more and more alike as we pulled down our walls and shared.  But not knowing my real name remained a point of contention.  Looking back, I think it bothered him way more than he let on.

But, one night (probably after a few glasses of wine!) I finally signed my goodnight message with the first letter of my name:  “K”.

I was like a little mouse leaving a tiny, teeny, itty-bitty crumb for him.  And I was squirming as I sat in bed, on my iPad, waiting for his response to load in my inbox. I knew he would reply immediately.  And he did.  What ensued next sounds so far fetched and like something out of a movie, but I can assure you- it’s 100% true.

“I’m working right now, but as always was excited to get a message from you 🙂 Yes…more and more similarities.  You don’t be any chance have an “A”, “T” or “E” in your name???  Do you?”

“More similarities?  Uh no, here we go again.  Should I make up a name and not tell you the rest of the letters?  Something totally different?  At university, when I took French, they gave us a French name.  I was given the name Chantal.  You can call me that if you want…or I can stay elusive forever??”

His reply hit my inbox within a second, “For real- is your name Kate?”

As I opened up and read his message, I about died.  What are the odds that CEO’s wife and I share the exact same name?  All I could do is reply, “Yes”.

“You have to be kidding me about your name… Well, at least I wont accidentally call my wife by the wrong name.

…I wish I was holding you right now.  It’s been a long day, but I have not stopped daydreaming about you.  It has been so nice to feel excitement and the rush when just receiving a message from you.  If we were together right now, how would you like to be kissed?”

“Kissed?  Passionately.  The rip your clothes, shove your body up against the wall kind of kiss.  But before that, you should know I’ve had a few images running through my mind since leaving you yesterday.  And each time, I instinctively take in a deep breathe and sigh.  It’s the only way to offset the excitement and butterflies you have given me.  I so wanted that as part of this.  It’s like the icing on the cake for me.  I have missed that so much and its incredible to experience that again.

Hearing that I am just as stunning in person and just as sexy as in your dreams made me smile so much yesterday.  Thank you for always showering me with compliments. You are good at those- plus, I enjoy hearing them.  I am thrilled that you kissed me with such passion and intensity.  I could have kissed you all afternoon.  It was that nice…”

“I have so many fantasies running through my head.  Next time we meet up, can you please lean over and whisper into my ear, ‘I’m wearing crotchless panties.'”

“Hmmmm, is this a specific fantasy of yours?  Well…consider it done.  Since you brought it up, while we are on the subject- what are your fantasies, Mr. CEO?”

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3 thoughts on “Letters

    1. Not missing him. And in fact, my marriage is the strongest it’s ever been. But I’m finally at a point in my life, where I have completely let go of Niall. The memories don’t haunt me. They don’t illicit any strong emotions any longer. In the past four years, we’ve rebuilt our marriage from the ground up. We have peace in our lives. Hope in our marriage. Harmony, love, respect, honesty and joy. I can finally write about what I did. And all the stupid, stupid things I did back then. How it all blew up and all the pain that ensued. Just because it all sounds so wonderful (and trust me, parts of it were)…like all affairs, they end badly. My story-telling is like a novel, it has a build up of excitement….till the nuclear bomb drops on all the people involved. Affairs follow a very typical pattern. But chaos, pain, regret, and utter devastation will ensue. I’m just not at that point in my story-telling yet. But it’s coming…

      Liked by 6 people

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